I’m Happy

Finding perspective in ordinary moments, and the choice to be glad

Photo by Age Cymru on Unsplash

*To know another and to be known by another — is everything.

• — Florida Scott-Maxwell, The Measure of My Days

Today, I witnessed something that I know I will carry with me for a while.

It happened in a place where life looks different than it once did. A long-term care home filled with stories, memories, and people who have lived entire lifetimes before arriving there.

I was sitting with an elderly gentleman who began telling me about how much he missed his wife’s cooking. He was remembering the good meals they had but also the love they shared. The way she cared for him, the meals she had prepared, and the feeling of being known and nurtured.

Beside him sat his wife, struggling to eat her meal. He gently encouraged her, offering her a few bites, then some cheezies, then a sip of pop. Even though she could no longer care for him in the way she once had, he was still caring for her.

As I thought about what he shared and watched the two of them interacting, I began to feel such gratitude for the ordinary things we so often take for granted.

A home-cooked meal. A shared table. The ability to prepare something with our own hands. Sharing food with someone we love. The simple act of caring.

We seldom recognize these moments as precious while we are living them. We assume there will always be another meal to make, another conversation to have, another opportunity to show someone we care, another day. But life moves quietly forward, and one day the things that seemed ordinary become the memories we would give anything to return to.

As I looked over at his wife, I noticed how easy it could be for someone to only see what was missing. To see her frailty, her age, her limitations, and the things she could no longer do. I wondered how often the value of a life is measured by what a person can produce, accomplish or contribute.

I wondered what it would be like if a person’s worth was not found in what they could do for another, but simply in who they are?

I turned to his wife and invited her into the conversation. I asked her how she was doing today. After a lengthy pause she said,

“I’m happy.” Then she repeated it with certainty: “I’m happy. I’m happy.”

Her words made me pause.

Here was a woman in her 90s who, by many outward measures, had experienced profound loss and limitation. Yet sitting there beside her husband, she had access to something many of us spend our entire lives searching for.

Joy.

How often do we postpone happiness — wait for everything to be just perfect before allowing ourselves to feel it? How often do we overlook the small joys that are already present?

Today, this woman gave me a gift: a beautiful reminder.

Happiness is not created through perfection, but rather it comes from something far simpler. Through connection, presence, love, and simply being here — it’s something we practice along the way.

I walked away with a renewed appreciation for the meals I can prepare, the people I can hold close, the conversations I can have, and the moments that may seem unimportant but are actually everything. And I walked away carrying her message.

“I’m happy,” challenged the story that circumstances determine the depth of our joy, or that our value is measured only by what we manage to accomplish, how close we are to perfection, or where we are in our journey.

Her words reminded me that happiness is something we can choose, we can nurture and carry within us, always.

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